


Hashirama's Necklace

by oceansgrey



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Engagement, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-05 23:59:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18376751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceansgrey/pseuds/oceansgrey
Summary: "It didn’t feel real, the slight added weight of the pendant resting on his chest, the chord around his neck hanging low. The crystal glimmered when it caught the sun, a small thing, the weight feeling heavier than it should. Madara knew that it was well worth several mountains of gold, the necklace worn by the First Hokage himself."





	Hashirama's Necklace

It didn’t feel real, the slight added weight of the pendant resting on his chest, the chord around his neck hanging low. The crystal glimmered when it caught the sun, a small thing, the weight feeling heavier than it should. Madara knew that it was well worth several mountains of gold, the necklace worn by the First Hokage himself.

It was still so surreal, knowing that Hashirama himself had placed the necklace on him, a declaration of commitment, of love.

A gloved hand clenched around the crystal, nervousness resting in his chest. Izuna had been so happy upon hearing the news, throwing his arms around his elder brother ecstatically, rambling off questions of what would come of the future.

Tobirama had been a different story. The younger Senju had sneered, had argued with Hashirama until he was red in the face, prepared to fight. Though Hashirama was completely unaware of what had happened after the announcement, he had his suspicions when Madara and Tobirama had come back to his home, battered and bruised.

Madara loved Hashirama, and if Tobirama had an issue with his brother being happy, then Madara would gladly beat some sense into him.

“You look fine,” Hashirama said, pulling Madara from his thoughts. “Come on. We’re going to be late,”

“Don’t sneak up on me!” Madara hissed, turning around. “You know I hate people at my back,”

Hashirama let out a booming laugh, one so different than the childish laugh he once had. He truly had become a man worthy of the title of Hokage, strength unmatched, only to be rivaled to Madara’s.

It still amazed the leader of the Uchiha that this man, who stood tall like an oak, could be so gentle, so kind.

A warm hand slipped over his, fingers lacing with a light squeeze.

“We’re going to be late,” Hashirama reiterated. “You know how Tobirama gets if I show up late,”

“Then I might as well keep you,” Madara smirked, pulling Hashirama closer. “Let your brother get upset,”

Hashirama rolled his eyes in good fun, removing his hand from Madara’s.

“He’ll be mad at me for weeks if we miss this meeting,” Hashirama said. “Come on. We’ll go out for inari afterwards, I promise,”

“I don’t see why the feudal lord needs to know of this engagement,” Madara huffed. “But I suppose, if you’re offering to pay for dinner,”

“You sly fox,” Hashirama jabbed at his side playfully. “You just want food out of this. Shall we invite our brothers?”

“Leave them be,” Madara let Hashirama pull him close, let him press a kiss to his forehead. “I believe they’ll understand,”

 

“How could he?” Izuna whined. “His own brother? His flesh and blood? His baby?”

“Quit complaining,” Tobirama didn’t hesitate to glance up from the scroll he was working on, ink pen hovering over the last part of the formula. “Our brothers simply wish for some alone time, as much as I despise the fact,”

“We’re going to be brothers soon, too,” Izuna reasoned. “The wedding’s in a month,”

Tobirama didn’t need to be reminded. Hashirama now tended to sit at his desk with a dopey smile on his face as he daydreamed, doodling little pictures of his husband-to-be. Tobirama had to scream at him to remember his responsibility as leader of the village, a reminder to take the job seriously rather than play the lovesick fool.

From their spot in the tower, watching Hashirama walk through the main street of the village with Madara’s hand in his, he couldn’t deny the fact that Hashirama was calmer, happier now that Madara was staying in the village. The former’s defection to chase after the Nine-Tails had been heartbreaking to Hashirama. Tobirama recalled him sitting atop the cliffside that was to house his stone face, sulking in silence. The fight that had ensued when Madara had returned to try to destroy the village they had created had been painful to watch, Tobirama keeping an eye from afar. It took both Izuna and Hashirama to convince Madara to stay, but in the end, it worked.

It still took Hashirama a bit of time and sulking before Tobirama shouted at him to just confess his feelings, and then not even a week after they confessed Madara came into a meeting sporting Hashirama’s necklace, a proposal accepted.

Tobirama and Madara fought that day. Tobirama nearly killed Madara that day, not accepting the choice his brother had made. Later that night, when Hashirama was speaking softly to Madara as he healed his wounds, did Tobirama realize the love his brother held for the Uchiha.

It was nice, to see Hashirama so happy, his dreams now a reality.

 

The wedding was the most nervous Izuna had ever seen his brother, Madara nervously fiddling with the crystal necklace around his neck, pacing back and forth in his formal attire.

“You look fine,” Izuna tried to offer, reaching out to catch Madara’s hand. “Hashirama loves you, possibly more than I do. No need to fret,”

Madara scoffed, but he clenched Izuna’s hand in his.

 

“Elder brother!” Tobirama shouted. “Get ahold of yourself!”

“I’m just so happy, Tobirama,” Hashirama sniffled, ignoring his brother’s attempts at wiping the tears from his face. “Madara’s a gift from the divine, and he’s going to be my husband today,”

Tobirama rolled his eyes, wondering what he must have done in a past life to be gifted an oaf of a brother.

A helpless, lovesick idiot.

 

The union between Senju and Uchiha was truly a spectacle. It had been well-believed that any sort of union or peace would never be brokered, but here, the two clan heads, childhood loves, stood together, hands held together.

Hashirama hoped it would issue a new era of peace, a new life of happiness.

Madara realized all he had ever dreamed of was to be by Hashirama’s side, and now, he was.

Hashirama drew his husband close, letting Madara hide his face from their families as they cheered, letting his husband feel safe in the village they had created together from the ground up.

“I was truly destined to be yours,” he whispered, not caring if Madara heard him or not, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

 

Hashirama would never tire of this, not even if he lived to be a thousand.

Madara looked god awful in the morning. Hair sticking every which way, mouth open as he snored softly, a bit of drool collecting at the corner of his mouth and seeping into the fabric of the pillow. Sprawled out on his back, a leg kicking at Hashirama’s leg, body hot like a furnace despite the autumn cold beginning to settle in.

Hashirama felt his heart swell with love and joy, unable to stop himself from smiling as he blinked the sleep from his eyes. His hand found Madara’s, the one wearing the matching gold band. Unable to resist the urge, and the fact that he now could do so, he leaned over and pressed a small kiss to his husband’s lips, feeling him begin to stir awake.

“Good morning, my love,” Hashirama couldn’t contain his happiness, flashing a bright smile to his still waking husband.

“Your breath is atrocious,” was Madara’s first words to him that morning, the hand that Hashirama had been holding coming up to push Hashirama’s face away from his. “Go brush your teeth if you wish to kiss me,”

Hashirama, of course, took that as an invitation to pepper his husband’s face with kisses, much to Madara’s chagrin.

“Shouldn’t the Hokage be getting up to go to his job?” Madara pressed, turning his face to avoid the onslaught of love Hashirama had been giving him.

“In a bit,” Hashirama said, feeling Madara wrap his arms around him and pull him close, nestling his face into the crook of his neck. “I want to hold you for a moment,”

Mornings weren’t so bad, waking up together and getting to enjoy each other’s embrace.

The necklace still felt heavy where it sat on Madara’s chest, but he ignored that to hold his husband a bit closer, feeling at peace and at home in Hashirama’s hold. It was almost too good to be true, it had to have been a dream.

Hashirama pressed a kiss to his lips once more, and Madara couldn’t bring himself to complain about morning breath or the need to get up and start the day.

**Author's Note:**

> I love hashimada and I have been planning on writing something for them for a while.


End file.
